Hello, Friends!

     Next week you'll hear from both Dianna and me about some gleanings from annual conference.  Today I'm reflecting on one dimension of our process.

      Those of you who were at Sunday evening's administrative board meeting may recall I talked about how we conduct business and make decisions at conference--in fact, across our denomination at all our assemblies, including national and international gatherings. We have a thoroughly democratic voting process, in which every delegate has a voice, with lay folk usually outnumbering clergy, as delegations are based on congregational or conference membership.

       That numerically proportional dimension might lead one to believe that only the larger bodies truly get heard, or influence decisions. Sometimes that's true, but the rule that governs United Methodist processes is that anyone who wishes to be heard must be acknowledged, listened to, and honored.

        Thus, our annual conference deliberations and voting procedures can often be interrupted by process-appropriate questions, assertions, and motions at any time.   Anyone who steps to one of several microphones gets recognized by our presider, our current bishop, and their concerns are heard.   We do have standing rules for procedure and order, which sometimes demand another venue for considering someone's idea, but no one is dismissed or denied the opportunity to speak.

         Our bishop for seven years, Joel Martinez, is particularly gracious and respectful, always thanking the speaker for sharing his or her ideas, and always offering a way to address any concerns that are voiced, whether immediately on the voting floor or referring the speaker to an appropriate body or individual for further consultation.

           Last week we had a striking example of how one voice can make a difference.   A delegate from a tiny African American congregation in West Texas rose, received recognition, and proceed to request removal of three separate reports from our consent agenda.   This meant that instead of "rubber stamping" reports already printed and before us, each of the bodies making the report would have to go back to the drawing board, reconsider their conclusions, and make a new report at a future date.

            Her concerns had to do with feeling that our conference has given inadequate consideration to the needs and struggles of small membership churches, particularly racial/ethnic minority congregations, many of which are facing dissolution, if things don't change.She made her case eloquently, graciously, and without rancor or reactivity, and here's the Gospel good news part:

           She made a difference.   Not only did she get a hearing, she got a vote on her motion, and two of her three proposals were approved.   This one woman from a church most of us have barely heard of and some never knew existed in a mostly forgotten part of our state--this one woman changed the way we did business.    Instead of approving a report we might not have read thoroughly, if at all, we now were made acutely aware of how real, how deep, and how urgent are the needs of neighbors whose voices, sadly for all of us, are not heard often enough.

            I won't say everyone was delighted to hear her, or to have to deal with her needs in the moment.   After all, we had a full schedule, including election of delegates to our quadrennial international conference coming up next year, and we were going to be hard pressed to get everything done.   Such unexpected intrusions into the expected order can be annoying, because they aren't "efficient," they take time, and they interrupt and interfere with our expections of what we're "supposed" to be doing.

           But isn't that the way life works?   And doesn't Christ expect us, even lovingly demand of us, that we do no less than honor each other, hear each other, and creatively respond to each other's needs, no matter who we are, no matter where we call home, no matter how much official "clout" we claim?   In fact, our sister from West Texas reminded us, Jesus taught and showed us that we should have particulary urgent interest in heeding the voices of those who generally go unacknowledged, unheard, and unhonored.

           Sometimes our United Methodist ways can be frustrating, in layers of bureaucratic officious-seeming procedure attached to so much of what we do.   But sometimes the light of Christ shines through how we do what we do, and holy wisdom, holy creativity, holy compassion get revealed as the genuine heart of what we intend.

          I hope we in the St. Luke faith community can continue to keep this way of being at the heart of all we are and do, together.   Everyone's voice does matter, and each one's unique perspective lends an essential, vital dimension to the whole.

          I look forward to hearing you, and being with each and all of you in this new appointive year, and I look forward to being with you Sunday, and all our days to come.

Shalom,

Sarah